know that i love you
by QuietLittleVoices
Summary: "I think I'm falling in love with you," he whispers into the skin of your throat, and you have to choke back a broken sound that threatens to push its way past your teeth, because falling is different than being and it just isn't good enough. ((Dean/Cas, End!verse))


"I think I'm falling in love with you," he whispers into the skin of your throat, and you have to choke back a broken sound that threatens to push its way past your teeth, because falling is different than being and it just isn't good enough. It's the halfway point - neither here nor there. You know that he's trying his hardest but it just isn't good enough. And you would know - you're an expert at falling.

You're too high on the scent of his skin to manage more of a response than, "I know," but the moment was good enough. He thinks he's falling and you wish for yours wings so you can fly and you know. It's good enough. For now.

You wonder for a long time what it would feel like to be loved by him. Would he touch you, just for the sake of feeling your skin? Would he kiss you with no ulterior motive? You wish you knew the answers to your questions. But he's falling – and it's not good enough, except that it is. Because it's all he can give, and you know that he's trying.

The next time he tells you, there's no 'I think' tacked on the beginning, but it's still an uncertainty. "I'm falling in you love with you."

It's not a direct trajectory, no obvious way to bring him to Point B – no way to bring him to you. You want to tie him down with led to keep him close to you, want to tie balloons to him so he can fly with you. More than anything, you want him to stop falling. You don't care if he doesn't fall all the way – just that there's a certainty. A finality that only hitting the ground can bring. If there's one thing you're familiar with, it's gravity.

All you can manage is to repeat your own words from that first time. "I know." The words are weak but full of truth. You do know. You know everything – even without your Grace, you know him better than anyone. You rebuilt his body; knowledge like that grips hold of you and doesn't let go, even when you're stripped of your essential being. The details of his soul were so carefully tattooed into your memory that you don't think you could ever forget it, even if you wanted to.

You don't think anything could make you _want_ to forget him. But if he keeps falling for much longer, you might have to run.

Loving him feels like both death and rebirth at once. Like your core being is on fire, but from the ashes you return and love him more than before. You wish that, for a moment, he felt the same. If you only had a moment, that would be all you would need. A minute; just long enough for him to stop falling, just long enough for him to tell you. You wonder if it would kill you.

The third time he says it is without certainty, without anything extra added, without the fear of falling. "I love you." The words are simple and you don't know how to feel, how to respond.

Hearing the words, and the certainty in his voice, makes you feel something you don't understand. You thought you loved him, before, but you realize that you were wrong. That wasn't love – but this is.

And so you smile at him, honest and happy but still small, and you tell him the same thing you've told him for so long. "I know," you say. But you don't say it back.

Being in love with him is both the best and worst thing you've ever experienced. There's yelling and fighting, verbal assaults launched this way and that with little care as to where they fall. He's always been good at finding the chinks in your armour and digging in, but you rebuilt his body with your hands and your soul and you can find his weak spots quicker than he could retaliate.

But there is love – so much love. There are tender, unnecessary touches, and kisses that are quick and chaste but speak so much. There's laughter and light and for the first time you think that things will be okay.

You couldn't have been more wrong when he looks at you, eyes empty, and you just look back, unfocused. The drugs have dulled your senses so you can't feel the pain that you can see behind his eyes – can't reflect it back at him. Can't feel a thing.

"I love you," he says, and his voice is thick but he doesn't move from his place in the middle of the cabin floor.

You loll your head back and look into his eyes. You say the only thing that you've ever been able to. "I know."

Being loved by him wasn't enough to save the world. It wasn't enough to keep you all safe, no matter how much you'd thought it would, once. Being loved by him was tender, for a time, but it turned dark. It stained you both and twisted the feelings and meanings until they didn't mean the same things that they did at the start.

You wish that you could have said something other than 'I know'. You wish that you could have told him, at least once. Just said it back. But you never did, and then it was too late and the words didn't carry the same weight as they used to.

Love was never enough.


End file.
